


"Maybe if I fall asleep, I won't breath right"

by venlig



Series: "At ease, soldier!" [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Claustrophobia, Hurt Steve Rogers, Panic Attacks, Protective Avengers, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve Rogers Has PTSD, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-06
Updated: 2018-07-06
Packaged: 2019-06-06 05:57:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15188309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/venlig/pseuds/venlig
Summary: Steve doesn't like small spaces. It takes some time for him to accept that.





	"Maybe if I fall asleep, I won't breath right"

 

The pain didn´t come right away. Steve had time to realize, yes, a hundred-stories-building _did_ just collapse over him, and _yes_ , he couldn´t lift any of the rubble. _Then_ he noticed the pain. He felt the sharp ache of broken bones in his leg, every breath send a wave of agony up his chest and he could feel blood trickle out of a deep gash in his upper body.

Steve raised his shaking hands and examined the wound. A big piece of glass had pierced itself just under his lung. He knew he shouldn´t take it out, but every time he breathed in, it ripped him more open. With his lip between his teeth, he closed his fingers around the glass and teared it out. It immediately started to soak his uniform in blood, but it wasn´t too bad. He added pressure on it with his hands and laid back.

Tony and the others would find him soon. Jarvis would just scan the place and find his vitals. The Hulk would easily lift all of the stone and then he would get into medical and everything would be just _fine_.

Except... if he didn´t have any vitals more for Jarvis to detect. Did they even _knew_ he was under the building? Sure, they _must_ have. At least when they would try to contact him. His earpiece was shattered into little pieces next to him. Steve never liked it anyways but he felt a little bad, because Tony always put so much work into the equipment.

The air got thinner. Less oxygen, more dust. He coughed but stopped when he tasted blood. That wasn´t a good sign, internal bleeding was never good.

It was too dark to check his body for other bruises and injuries. He _could_ feel an aching all over his body, though.

Did it get colder in here? It couldn´t. It was mid July.

Was that water at his feet? No, his feet were covered in chunks of cement, there was _no way_ there could be water.

 

It definitely got colder.

 

The anxiety twisted around in Steve`s stomach and he swallowed a mix of blood and dust. He was scared of the recognition and the knowledge about what was going to happen. He _would_ die today. Or even worse, _not_ die and fall asleep again. Here, trapped beneath meters of ice-no, _stone_. This was 2013, Rogers, _not 1945._

Steve needed to get out.

His breathing was fast and short. His whole body trembling as he lifted himself up a little bit.

Hands started to scratch at the walls, breaking fingernails and ripping off the flesh at the tips.

A panicked moan escaped his mouth and he punched on the floor. He didn´t want to die again, just to be alive in a world that made him _sick_. He didn´t want to feel the ice creep over his skin, pulling him into a sleep that would end in a nightmare. He couldn´t do it again. He couldn´t lose his family again. Natasha, Bruce, Howard- _Tony_ , Clint and Thor. His friends, family. His _love_. He needed to dance. He couldn´t miss the dance. He _couldn´t, couldn´t, couldn´t_ -

Suddenly all the air was gone. He was alone, crying, sobbing. Not a single muscle in his body was under his control.

It was 1945 and he crashed the plain into the ice and he would miss his first dance with Peggy and he _wouldn´t_ see Bucky and his mom in the afterlife, he would be woken up to fight in a battle that wasn´t his _own_ , for a world he didn´t _live_ in.

 

 

Afterwards he didn´t know how long he was out. All he could remember was coldness. And screams. His loved ones calling for him. He felt his past washing over him and making him believe everything that had happened after the crash was a dream.

Maybe sometimes he still believed it was a dream.

 

When the other Avengers found him, he had passed out. Steve was glad. He didn´t want them to see him in such a breakdown. He was their leader, _strong_. Mental Health was viewed very differently these days but he still thought, that he was supposed to feel grateful for being alive again. He was one of the few. He survived the war and lived in a time period with good food and wifi, isn´t that _great_ , Captain America?

It wasn´t. He would give up fresh meat and internet without a thought, if that meant he could kiss Peggy´s red lips one more time.

They had always tasted like cherries.

 

 

 

Tony Stark was a billionaire and you could see it everywhere. In the way he dressed, he talked, how the couch felt and the coffee tasted. Steve never really liked coffee. It was too strong and before the serum caffeine wasn´t very good for his sick body, so he never really got used to it. But after he got the serum he slept less and drank more. Even though it didn´t really had the effect on him. Just the thought that it should make him more awake, helped, he guessed.

It has been three days since... the _event_. Steve didn´t like talking or thinking about it. The other avengers knew something was going on with him but they didn´t ask.

Their leader sat on one of Starks very expensive bar stools and sipped an very expensive coffee. His loose-fitting t-shirt tuck at his wound. It didn´t heal as quickly as normal. Bruce said it was because his body spent all its energy in mending the tiny shreds of bone in his legs. Steve could walk again, with pain (not that he would show that to anyone), but Bruce had urged him to take it slow.

“Hey Cap! You´re up earlier than usually. You don´t plan on running, do you? Because if you do, I am afraid I have to tell Banner and you know how he is when he gets mad”

Tony entered the kitchen, his clothes stained with machine oil.

Steve glanced into his mug. Still too much coffee left to just down it and flee.

“No, I don´t plan on running. Unlike you, I do what I am told” he answered.

Tony raised an eyebrow.

“Oh yeah, you really are a good, well-behaving soldier”,he sat down on a seat across the counter,”But why are you up then?”

“Couldn´t sleep”

“Something bothering you?”

Steve looked up. That was new. Usually they would just nod and smile and leave him be.

Should he tell him what happened? Tony was his friend, he knew that, and he also knew that Tony had panic attacks himself. Maybe he could help?

But deep down he already knew he wouldn´t say anything. He wasn´t raised that way. He wasn´t supposed to be like that. He was their leader. He was supposed to be _strong_.

“No, everything is fine. Probably just had too much coffee the last few days”

He smiled at Tony, set down his mug and left the kitchen.

He didn´t like coffee anyways.

 

 

 

The next time it happened, it was worse. And it wasn´t even on a battlefield. Steve didn´t have the excuse of loosing too much blood.

Tony and him were on their way to a Shield meeting and they were riding the elevator, because they were late. Also Tony was too lazy to take the stairs (“We are old man, goddammit, Steve!”).

It was a mistake. He should have known it. He should have known that his past would get to him again.

The elevator got stuck. Just stopped. Abruptly and without a sound.

Tony cursed annoyed and Steve thought it would be fine. They would be out in a minute and he didn´t crash into the ice in an _elevator_.

Then they were informed that there were complications.

“Are you alright down there?” Coulson voice sounded different through the elevator-telephone.

“Everything is good, just hurry up”Tony answered fast. Steve was glad. He had a feeling that he lost his voice.

It was getting warmer (See, Rogers? 1945 was _cold_ , this _isn´t 1945_ ).

Steve and Tony sat on each side of the elevator. Tony at his phone, Steve multiplying the numbers on the buttons.

He didn´t realize he scratched himself with his fingernails until he felt blood. Confused he looked down on the small, red stains and suddenly he knew, he was about to have a panic-attack.

Because he was trapped, in a very small room and he _couldn´t_ get out, he could never get up, he would die in here, he would fall asleep, _sleep-_

 

“ _Don´t you dare be late”_

 

They were so loud-

 

“ _I´d hate to step on your-”_

“ _Steve? Steve? STEVE?”_

 

Never stopping, always shouting, in his head, without a pause, it didn´t stop, it _never_ -

 

“ _Man with a plan, Captain America, soldier, son, friend-”_

“ _I´m with you ´til the end of the line”_

 

He wanted to answer them, he wanted to come, he wanted to go, he was going to go-

 

“ _You´ve been asleep, Cap. For almost seventy years”_

_seventy seventy seventy seventy-_

 

“Hey, man, you alright?”

Tony´s voice got through the ones from his past, shouting at him. He looked up, _tears_ (or ice-water) streamed down his face.

“Help me, get me out, I don´t want to sleep”he whimpered, shaking like a leaf.

A hand touched his shoulder. Its warmth burned to the ice and Steve´s eyes focused on the room around him. He grabbed the hand and his view frantically searched the others brown eyes.

“Hey, hey, it´s fine. You are _fine_. I promise you _everything is alright.”_ the soothing voice calmed his breathing. Then Steve´s brain connected Tony´s face to Howards´and he was in 1945 again.

The floor under his feet began to rock and he was sure that it could be just seconds now until the plane would hit the ice. It had been fast and shocked his whole body.

Peggy´s voice tried to reach him. The words sounded different than the first time and she definitely _didn´t_ cry. She probably was used to him dying already.

Steve wasn´t. He cried and screamed and trashed. He knew he made everything worse. He knew he should just _get up_ , so maybe, _maybe,_ he could swim out. Maybe he could have swum out, he could have got out, _swim-!_

“Okay, Steve. I´m gonna get help” the voice, it wasn´t Peggy, it has never been. Peggy´s voice sounded like a song, a bird´s chanting in the morning. This voice was rough and deep.

The warmth, his last anchor to reality (but- he _was_ dying. Wasn´t he?) left his side and the ice took its place. Froze every bone of him.

“No, no, Howard don´t leave me, please, find me, Howard find me, you should have found me...”his voice was quiet but desperate. He didn´t have the energy to scream anymore.

Water entered his mouth, his lungs, he cried out in panic and everything turned black.

 

 

 

Steve woke up with a jolt, but he didn´t make a sound. His body was trained to wake up quietly. Enemies weren´t allowed to hear them. His eyes fluttered open and he stared at a white ceiling. The bed he was laying in smelled after fresh perfume and sunlight shined in his eyes.

For a second he thought he was back at Shield, waking up from another 70 years in the ice. But when he sat up, there was a big “2013” drawn on the wall.

“Stark will have to pay for the wall”a voice echoed from his right.

Steve twitched and his head flew to the source of the noise. Clint was sitting in a chair at the door. His posture relaxed, a coffee in his hand and he was dressed in normal clothes. His face showed no emotions and he just stared at Steve.

“Where am I?”the soldier asked. His raw throat made him sound hoarse.

“Medic room in Avengers Tower. Bruce wanted to have you nearby and thought you weren´t so fond of hospitals”

Steve made a mental note to buy Bruce a coffee some day.

“And..why?”

Clint looked surprised.

“You don´t remember? You and Tony got stuck in an elevator and you had a pretty bad panic-attack. Started yelling about crashing and getting frozen again. Even called Tony Howard, will take a while for him to get over that. Then you breathed all wrong and didn´t get enough air and passed out. At least that´s what Bruce thinks” Clint explained.

Steve swallowed hard. Now that he heard it, it all came back. His face flushed red and he fumbled with the bed sheets between his fingers.

“Does everyone know?”he whispered, even though he already knew the answer. If Clint knew, Natasha knew and Thor could get anything out of anyone.

“Just us and Coulson. Maybe some Shield agents saw you getting carried out but they don´t know the story”

Steve hid his face in his hands. He was failure, an embarrassment for the whole team.

“I am sorry”,he said with a thick voice and meant it.

Clint let out a sharp laugh. “For what? Having a panic-attack? Dude, you have been frozen for seventy years, fought in World War 2 and outlived all your friends! I think a panic-attack was kinda overdue”

Footsteps approached and a hand was laid awkwardly on his shoulder.

“Don´t take it too hard, Cap. We all now you aren´t perfect. Serum, blah blah who even cares. You are still just _human_ ”

 

 

 

After that, everything went pretty fast. The other avengers never closed the doors anymore when he was in a small room. When they were flying on a jet, somebody was talking to Steve and distracting him. And after he came back from a three-week-mission, his quarters had turned into one big room with a lot of space and wide windows. Nobody said anything but Steve went to dinner with Tony once, trying to show his gratitude.

Sometimes they really overdid it a little. Steve was just fine with sitting in a closed living room or being squeezed between Thor and Clint on a car ride. He didn´t need space big enough for ten people.

But he appreciated the effort.

 

Steve didn´t like cramped places and that was okay. This new world was big enough.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. I hope you liked it!


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